


Pour Me Another Mum

by Pendles_is_friendles



Series: Alls the Thralls [2]
Category: Battleborn (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Gen, Originally Posted on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 02:44:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17296244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pendles_is_friendles/pseuds/Pendles_is_friendles
Summary: After the Third Thrall Rebellion, the freshly freed Vocatia handles the matter of turning away a thrall in need.  The club she managed to get her hands on barely provides enough for her current crew.  So, she gives him a little advice to help him along for now.





	Pour Me Another Mum

Vocatia rubbed her neck as she surveyed her empty club. Bored employees sat at the bar, each one falling asleep propped up on their hands. Even with almost a year since the Rebellion was still fresh on everyone’s minds, it seemed she may have opened up her place too soon. Was it possible that the local thrall thought she was a mole for those vampires? Her eye brow ridge quirked as she tossed down her towel on the bar in front of the sleepy dancers. “Think I gonna close for the night, girls. We’ll drum up some business outside first thin’ tomorrow evenin’, right?”

“‘Kay, mum,” a young low born Jennerit muttered as she started to yawn. “Should I bring in the red strappy thing with the feathers then?”

The thrallmother hummed in a deep rumble as she itched her stretch-marked belly. “Yeah, got to perk up what little you got, hon. Just be careful out there, yeah?”

The teeny Jennerit smiled as she waved off Vocatia’s concerns, her heels clicking as she slinked off with her associates. She had lived in the slums all her life, something the old thrall knew well. But it didn’t stop her worrying, even if the girl was a Jennerit.

She shook her horned head as she proceeded to start doing the evening cash out. A few paltry shards and a handful of credits poured out of the lock box. Clicking her teeth in disappointment, she selected one of the bottles from the bottom shelf of her display and popped the cap off with her manicured nails. Leaning down to pick up a cup her size from under the bar, the front entrance opened to reveal a giant Thrall with dark turquoise horns and a white face. “Evenin’ mate, sorry ta say the entertainment’s stepped out for the night, but I’ll can keep the bar open for ya.” Vocatia beckoned the stranger in before sliding the filled glass cup to his side of the bar. “Name’s Vocatia. What’s yours stranger?”

“Mortus, mum.” He leaned against the bar, afraid the tiny stools wouldn’t hold his mass. Accepting the glass, he downed it in one pass as if it were nothing. Judging from the crack in his hefty crest and the snipped end of his horn, Vocatia poured him another.

“Ya still in the service?” Measured words from a shrewd woman, there was no too careful with her own on Tempest. Too many ignored the Rebellion, she knew how to keep herself from being another statistic. It did not help that this stranger reminded her of the Lieutenant who had stabbed her in the back one too many times.

Mortus drank his second one down just as greedily, some of it dribbling down his opened cheeks. “No, mum. Rebelled and all I got was roughed up lookin’ fer new ventures. Freedom’s not as cracked up as they say it is.” Disappointment hung from his horns as he shook his head. “I ain’t even lookin’ fer anythin’ fancy. Just wanted to get out of bein’ muscle.” His eyes met hers for a desperate moment before letting his gaze fall back into the bottom of his glass. "I heard I could find help here..."

The thrallmother downed her glass with a grunt. “Sadly, I can’t help you ‘less you can work a pole,” she stated, pouring the last of the liquor into their glasses. “Even then, you don’t got what me few customers are lookin’ for.” Tossing the empty bottle in the bin, she scrunched her nose straining think of what could be done for him. Her crew of sons had already grown into an expense she was not ready to take on; this giant stranger seemed to be a titanic bill just by himself, as useful as his strength could be. She already had a thrall his size on her team, Jacques. Both hearts cracked at the thought of turning him away, but Vocatia had no better options at the moment. Maybe in the future? “Have you thought ‘bout bein’ muscle for someone just long enough to get the credits to do what you want? Big brute like you’d earn them quick.”

Mortus’ deathly grey eyes stayed trained on the frosted logo of his glass. Vocatia wondered if he recognized the image of the boar, or if he had never seen one. The deep disappointed thrum that escaped as he deflated further only broke her hearts further. “Maybe. I dunno." His defeated mumble spoke volumes. She could only hope to find him when her coffers were fuller. As she averted her gaze, he nudged his glass in her direction. "Could you pour me another, mum?”

**Author's Note:**

> This is a part of a collection of fics circling a handful of OCs of mine. Most were previously posted on Tumblr, but are being edited, reworked and reposted here for your reading pleasure. There's a lot more where this came from.


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